


not for much longer, my lord

by sharkcoochieboard



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, DreamSMP - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Lmanburg, Love/Hate, M/M, Oneshot, Other, Rivalry, im a simp, lmanberg, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkcoochieboard/pseuds/sharkcoochieboard
Summary: “I don’t feel particularly hot right now?” George’s face softened into an even more confused look. “What are you playing at?” His voice lowered again, suspicion returning to his tone.“Well obviously you don’t feel hot,” Dream glanced down to the older man’s mouth, “your lips are practically blue.”“What do you care about my lips?”In which a frigid fight breaks out as Knight Dream attempts to overthrow the arrant King George in the middle of a snowstorm, but the battle doesn't go exactly as planned.- slight mention of violence and bloodI DO NOT SHIP THEM IRL. This is FICTION, they are both straight irl and are fine with fanfiction
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 314





	not for much longer, my lord

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a one-shot that has been redone. Originally it was a fight between King Technoblade and King Dream, but I found out that Technoblade is uncomfortable with shipping, so he was removed as the romantic interest. However, Dream and George have explicitly stated that they are fine with shipping fics and think they are funny, so I changed it to be a dnf fic based on King George and Knight Dream.

The wind whipped around them, unrelenting in its force. The snowflakes, previously gentle in their descent, began stinging Dream’s hands. He was glad that he had his hood up and his mask on, otherwise, he was sure he would have frozen to death by now. 

In fact, he was surprised that his opponent hadn’t frozen solid where he stood. The snow had started to crystallize on his messy obsidian hair, causing small flyaways to stick out like icicles. His lips were turned slightly blue, and by the contorted look on his face, it seemed like he was trying to almost hide them behind his teeth. His strong brows were knitted together, and his stance was threatening. From behind his mask, Dream’s expression twisted into a small smirk. 

“Give it up, George. You no longer have power in this world.” 

The porcelain man snickered, “and what claim do  _ you _ have?” 

George took a step forward, holding his black sword up, it’s faint purple glow cutting through the clouded air. 

Dream couldn’t help but laugh at his question. 

“ _ I’m _ the King of this land now.” 

“Not until you tear this crown off my head.” 

“I don’t see anyone complaining about the change in power.” 

“What about Techno and Tommy?” 

Now it was Dream’s turn to take a step forward, brandishing his axe. His ears flamed with embarrassment at the mention of his nemesis in L’Manberg, and the anarchist pig he had formerly had an alliance with. 

The wind whistled, and they were silent for a moment. 

“You really think they’re going to build back that old crater? If you want to maintain your kingship, go pick a fight with the traumatized child who rules over it now. The only reason they believe they have any independence is because I  _ let _ them. And Techno’s issue isn’t with me  _ or _ you, its with the throne itself.”

He was testing his limits now, just trying to get the shorter man to swing the sword at him. Truthfully, he also had a bone to pick with the newly elected leaders of L’Manberg. Well, he had a bone to pick with L’Manberg in its entirety. It was all supposed to be over when Wilbur blew it up, and Technoblade unleashed the demonic withers from the realm he reigned over. But the child, Tubbo, had been so optimistic about rebuilding it, about being peaceful and gracious, Dream couldn’t bring himself to destroy it again. 

It was for this reason that Technoblade felt so betrayed by Dream. They were supposed to be companions in chaos, destroying the government once and for all. He was a damn hypocrite, being the ironfisted ruler of his own hellish realm, yet criticizing Dream for allowing L’Manberg the opportunity to rebuild and defending George’s Kingship. 

He  _ had _ been defending George’s Kingship, for a while at least. Until he realized that the scrawny, brazen man was incompetetant, and would likely be assassinated by one of the people who had been ousted to the Badlands during the war, if not killed by Technoblade himself. 

That is why Dream had to overturn King George, his incompetence as a ruler and a fighter.  _ Not _ because he cared for him dearly,  _ not _ because he didn’t know if he would be able to live on if the charming man were killed over politics, and  _ definitely not _ because the thought of him dying made Dream’s chest fill with a sorrow smoke and choke his very breath.

A sword narrowly missed his neck. Tearing himself from his thoughts instantly, Dream ducked, and stepped back. 

“It’s  _ my _ throne!” George yelled, stabbing forwards into Dream’s chest. 

George didn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand why Dream had to do this.

A sidestep. 

“I  _ gave  _ you that throne,”

A swing of an axe. 

A misplaced foot. 

The slice of a sword through leather. 

The knight allowed George to win, falling to the ground deceivingly.

Dream breathed heavily as his mask fell from his face, the leather strap already fraying at where it had been cut. The side of his face bled, and the harsh wind stung the wound like needles. He pulled himself onto his elbows, looking up at the man poking the tip of the enchanted sword gently into his neck. 

“ _ I win _ ,” George spat, his eyes glimmering with a prideful satisfaction.

Dream curled his lip into a snarl. 

“You didn’t win shit, George.” 

He pulled his arm up and directed the axe at the king’s leg. The awkward position of his swing led to him not chopping it as intended, but bluntly slamming into the back of George’s knee, causing him to stumble onto the ground with a grunt of surprise. 

In the midst of his fall, the sword fell from his hand, and Dream couldn’t decipher if the move was intentional or not. What he did feel though, was George pin his arms into the cold ground as he nearly landed on the blonde beneath him. 

His dark eyes glared intensely into Dream’s face. They had never been this close to one another, and he was ashamed to admit that he felt vulnerable. His deep green eyes, innocent freckles, and laugh lines were far less intimidating without the menacing mask he donned in public. He worried that George would see right through his stone-cold expression. They took a moment to catch their breath, even in the uncomfortable position they found themselves in.

“Refer to me only as your lord.”

George’s breath was surprisingly warm, and a heat seemed to radiate from his body. Their faces merely inches apart, he could see that when the snowflakes hit the pale man’s skin, they melted instantly, regardless of the fact that the air was piercingly frigid. 

“You’re...hot.” Dream broke the silence, squinting his eyes as the wind hit them. 

“I--what?” George’s breathy voice stuttered, and his intense scowl turned into a look of confusion. Dream’s ears burned again, and the fire traveled around his cheeks as well this time.

“No, I mean, your-your skin. And breath. Are you getting sick, my lord?” As angry, cold, and stiff as Dream felt being pinned underneath George’s body, a genuine concern overtook him, and he couldn’t help but address George in his usual way. 

“I don’t feel particularly hot right now?” George’s face softened into an even more confused look. “What are you playing at?” His voice lowered again, suspicion returning to his tone. 

“Well obviously you don’t feel hot,” Dream glanced down to the older man’s mouth, “your lips are practically blue.” 

“What do you care about my lips?”

“You’re fragile, George, that’s why we ended up here in the first place.” 

George’s expression perverted back into one of contempt instantly. 

“Shut your damn mouth,” he seethed. He tightened his grip on Dream’s arms and lowered his head to meet the knight’s lips in an aggravated kiss. 

Dream felt something like lightning erupt throughout his body. In less than a second, his head ran through a cycle of shock, fury, confusion, and want. The cold, yet soft feeling against his lips made Dream shivered. The snow melted around him, and in its place his body became enrobed in a simmering warmth. He broke the kiss, pulling his head back and trying to find words. 

“If you were worried about my lips being cold, I figured it was your job to warm them up for me, Dream.” His look of contempt had shifted to a conceited smirk, but his eyes kept their smoldering glare. 

“Get the fuck off of me,” Dream scoffed, shaking his head and looking to the side. 

“Do you actually want me to?” 

“No.” 

“You mean  _ no, my lord _ .”

Dream leaned forward and reached his hand up to tangle it in George’s hair, pulling him into another heated kiss and reaching for the crown on his head. This time, George was the one who pulled away, firmly adjusting the crown.

_ “I’m still the king, Dream. You’re just my knight.”  _

They both reached for their weapons as Dream trailed a few kisses across George’s porcelain cheek. He paused when he reached his ear, whispering as he tightened his grip on the axe. 

_ “Not for much longer, my lord.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> If people enjoy this I might consider posting more oneshots in this "plot" to a collection?? Idk any feedback would be wonderful :)


End file.
